Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Almost there.
The second the doors open, she flies out of them. I race after her. When she reaches one of the suite doors and is about to start pounding on it, I grab her arm, jerking her back. Furious rage contorts her beautiful features, but I don’t give a damn. I’d like the element of surprise here.
I flip open one of my apps and hold my phone over the door. The lock disengages immediately. Romy, if surprised by my ability to easily access a room I don’t have a key for, says nothing. I push open the door, bracing myself for the worst.
Two heads whip my way, both of them wearing shocked expressions. A matching game sits between them and a huge bowl of popcorn beside it. Everything seems normal. Completely normal. I’m starting to second-guess things, but the fiery woman behind me shoves past me, still emanating with fury.
“You,” Romy hisses, pointing down at where Vivienne sits. “You sick bitch.”
She rears back her hand and smacks Vivienne hard on her cheek. The woman cries out in shock mixed with pain. Kaitlyn starts to cry. Her crying is what has Romy faltering. It gives me enough time to pull her away from the nanny.
“Get her out of here, Caius,” Romy says, struggling in my hold. “Get her the fuck away from that little girl!”
We’ve done a lot to Romy, but I’ve never seen her so enraged. After learning that her nanny molested her, I understand her anger. Whether or not Vivienne’s done anything to Kaitlyn is to be determined. Still, I’m not taking any chances.
“Pack your stuff,” I say to Vivienne. “You’ll receive pay through the rest of the month. Leave a forwarding address at the front desk and we’ll mail you your items from the cabin back home.”
Vivienne has the gall to appear confused. As if this is all some misunderstanding.
“I’m sorry,” Vivienne says in a soft, innocent tone. “Am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?”
The way she lies so easily and believably makes my skin crawl.
“You’ve been let go,” I state coldly. “Time to leave.”
Vivienne, whose cheek is bright red from Romy’s slap, climbs to her feet, hugging her middle. “But I’m good at my job,” she croaks, eyes pleading. “Please. I need this job. Where else will I go?”
“To Hell,” Romy hisses. “People like you go to Hell.”
A flash of irritation sparks in Vivienne’s eyes, but she quickly hides it away. “I truly am sorry if I did anything to offend you all.”
“You’re lucky all you got was a slap,” Romy says, helping Kaitlyn to her feet. “You deserve a lot worse.”
Romy ushers Kaitlyn out of the room and into the bedroom, then slams the door behind her. Vivienne, a woman at least twenty years my senior, bats her lashes at me and gives me her best pitiful expression. It does nothing for her case.
What I want to know is why Dad recommended her to be Kaitlyn’s nanny? She had a good track record, otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed her into our world. Right? Or maybe there’s something more sinister behind his actions.
As much as I want to dissect all this, now’s not the time.
“You remember Romy?” I ask, voice cold. “How long did it go on for? Have there been more?” I grit my teeth. “Kaitlyn?”
The irony isn’t lost on me that I forced Gareth to get a nanny to avoid what’d happened with Emma, only for the nanny to probably have done the same shit to Kaitlyn.
This woman, well-versed on playing the innocent caretaker, shakes her head in vehemence as if my words are offensive to her.
“W-What? I’ve only just met your girlfriend. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Having been in the business of mind control for over a decade, I know people. I know their tells, their lies, their truths, their attempts at manipulation. I know it all. I can read them easily, like one of my beloved books in my office. This woman thinks she’s slick. Now that I’m looking for it, I can see straight through her. She’s nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A snake in my motherfucking garden.
“If you leave now, you’ll save yourself a lot of unnecessary trouble,” I bite out, pointing at the door. “This act of yours won’t work.”
She remains planted in place, her eyes narrowing as she internally weighs her options. Then her lips curl into a frown. I watch, arms crossed over my chest, as she snatches up her purse by the door.
“My clothes?” she asks, refusing to look at me. “They’re in the room.”
The room she was sharing with my damn niece.
“They’ll be at the front desk. You can collect them in the morning. I don’t care where you go for the night, but make sure it’s not within fifty feet of this building.”